The steep incline was treacherous to navigate.

For William, burdened with carrying Elise, the challenge was even greater.

She was utterly exhausted, her eyes too heavy to open as she rested against his chest.

Vaguely, she heard the screech of tires and the rhythmic thumping of helicopter blades.

Patrick's men had finally arrived.

Their timing was impeccable—arriving precisely when needed most.

With that final thought, Elise surrendered to unconsciousness.

When awareness returned, she found herself in an unfamiliar room.

This wasn't a hospital, nor her Crestwood apartment, nor William's residence.

She blinked slowly, her eyelids weighted like lead, matching the heaviness in her head.

It felt as though she had slept for an eternity, trapped in a state between waking and dreaming.

"You're awake." William's deep voice spoke softly beside her, filled with gentle concern.

Elise turned toward his familiar face, noticing the fair skin of his handsome cheeks now marred with various cuts and bruises.

Blinking slowly, she managed to ask, "Where are we?"

Her voice came out raspy and strained, her throat aching with every word.

"Rockville," William answered, then quickly added, "Don't worry. You're perfectly safe here."

Yet Elise found it hard to believe any place could be truly safe while they remained on Stuart territory.

She lacked the strength to protest anyway, unable to even lift herself from the bed.

"Let me help you sit up," William offered, leaning forward to gently lift her, carefully arranging soft pillows behind her back for support.

Only then did she notice the IV attached to her wrist and realize the room served as a makeshift medical facility.

Once she was comfortably positioned with William's assistance, he asked, "Would you like some water?"

"Yes," she nodded, her throat painfully dry.

William rose and poured a glass of water. "Wait a moment. I'll help you drink."

"I can manage," Elise insisted, mustering all her energy to raise her hand.

Her arm felt weak and exhausted, and she suddenly realized even breathing required effort.

"Don't push yourself," William told her, holding the glass to her lips. "You've been unconscious for three days with no nourishment. The IV has been sustaining you, so weakness is understandable."

Elise stared at him in surprise—three days?

"Thankfully, you've awakened," he said, his lips curving into a relieved smile.

Though Elise hadn't sustained life-threatening injuries, she had remained stubbornly unconscious.

Despite the doctor's assurance that she was simply resting and recovering from extreme fatigue, William had maintained constant vigilance at her bedside.

Even with monitors tracking her vital signs, he frequently leaned close to verify her breathing.

Now, seeing her conscious brought immense relief.

"Just rest," he advised gently. "You'll feel dizzy after lying down for so long. After you drink, I'll prepare some oatmeal for you."

His tenderness suggested he feared she might break at any moment.

Holding the glass carefully, he helped her take small sips.

When she finished the water, he began to rise, but she stopped him. "William."

"Yes?"

"Are all my limbs still attached?"